


A change of definition.

by tallpaleandanxious



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexuality, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Bickering, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallpaleandanxious/pseuds/tallpaleandanxious
Summary: After being mistaken for a couple for what seems like the millionth time, Crowley and Aziraphale have a discussion about the exact nature of their relationship, with some interesting results.Un Betad.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	A change of definition.

“I must say, it is rather amusing,” said Aziraphale, taking another bite of chocolate parfait.  
“How so many of the humans that we come across seem to assume that we're couple.”

It was a remark that had been prompted by a well meaning enquiry from their waiter, who, on overhearing a snatch of their conversation, had asked which anniversary they were celebrating.  
To his credit he hadn’t been entirely wrong. It was now one year to the day since the apocalypse, thanks to a book of Prophecies and a-child-who-was-no-longer-the-antichrist, sort of hadn’t happened. And Crowley hoped it would continue not happening, thank you very much.

“SsS'a reasonable assumption.” He said propping his head up lazily with one hand. “S'easier anyway. I mean we can’t exactly tell them: Sorry we're not going out we've just been fraternizing for the last six thousand years because I'm a demon and he's an angel and we're not supposed to be friends.”

“I suppose it does avoid rather a lot of awkward questions.” Said Aziraphale primly. A curious expression had come over him and he was attacking his dessert with just a little too much rigour.

“Angel...does it…..is it..._bothering you_?”

“Of course not dear boy. It’s been a regular occurrence over the course of our...” He paused searching for the right word.  
Crowley was familiar with that pause. He himself had been searching for the right word, on and off since the beginning of days.  
“Of our _friendship_.. “ Aziraphale continued. “For I don't know how long. I'm certainly not going to start taking issue with it now.” He returned the spoon to his now empty plate. “Does it….bother you?”

“Oh, I uh… I think I can live with it.” said Crowley, with a touch more affection than he'd intended. _Shit_. He made a mental note to stop hanging around Aziraphale quite so much. He was just so nice. So irritatingly lovable. It was all to easy, sometimes, to forget the true nature of what he was.  
Of what they both were.

He glanced furtively at Aziraphale, thankful as always for the protection afforded him by his dark glasses. That strange look had come over him again, but This time the blue eyes that stared back at him held a glint of mischievous anticipation. An outside observer might even call it coy. You bastard he thought. The blasted angel was doing this on purpose.

Crowley leaned back in his chair, his chaos loving mind had sensed the beginning of a battle, and he was going to need ammunition.  
“Y’knowww...” He  
said slowly, a little surge of adrenaline lighting up his synapses. “If you think about it we kind of are.”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“A couple. An old married couple. Like the doddery old dears you see holding hands in St James’s”

_Shots fired 1._

“Oh don't be absurd!” Snapped Aziraphale, taking the napkin off his lap and folding it carefully. “ I hardly think you can compare the odd lunch every decade with a human lifetime's worth of holy matrimony.”

“Angel, we've seen each other nearly every day since the notpocalypse. Your toothbrush is in my bathroom.”

“Yes well, we've both had a bit more free time on our hands than usual. But that's just two...close... friends spending time together isn't it? It’s not like we've been sleeping in the same bed or anything like that.”

_Shots fired 2._

“Last Tuesday you got blind drunk and passed out on top of me.”

“That wasn’t intentional! You could have woken me up.”

“Hell hath no fury like an angel with a hangover.”_ Or anything quite so comfortable as a sleeping one,_ thought Crowley.

“But we don't even…”

“What?”

Aziraphale wrung his hands awkwardly. He had suddenly gone distinctly pink around the ears. “Know each other...in the biblical sense.”

Crowley had to admit the angel had a point. Celestial beings are, generally speaking sexless, and despite what his absurdly tight jeans may suggest, neither he or Aziraphale had any inclination to change that. However, Crowley's mind, so attuned as it was to the slightest hint of sin, soon found a flaw even in this defence, for as every good demon knows, love and Lust are two very different things.  
“You’re right.” He replied at last. “But an absence of hanky panky isn't exactly rare in human relationships. Good thing too, Otherwise It’d be a hell of a lot harder tempting people into adultery.”  
He jerked his head in the direction of a couple a few tables away, where a man, balding, ham faced and clad in an expensive suit, was busy re-filling the glass of a woman several decades his junior.

“I don't often say this Crowley, but you are being insufferably wicked.” Huffed Aziraphale, his voice rich with false indignation. Crowley could tell he was enjoying himself immensely.  
“Thank you.” He gave aziraphale an oily grin. “ Glad to hear I'm not loosing my touch.”

  
“Hmmph!”

“You see we even bicker like a married couple.”

“We most certainly do not!”

Crowley rolled his eyes.

_“We don't_…”

“Then what exactly are we doing right now?”

“Having a well reasoned debate.”

_Shots fired 3._

“Tch!” Crowley’s lips curled upwards in a snarl. His defences were wearing thin. But he had one more bullet left, and if he aimed it carefully he may just win the war.

“Angel, how long have we known each other for?”

“Oh, about six thousand years give or take.”

“Exactly. Longer than any other being has ever known anyone in the history of time.  
Long enough that we know each others every mood. Every afflicted foible and annoying habit. Long enough that we can drive each other crackers better than anyone else.  
Long enough that we nearly got ourselves destroyed trying to save the world just so we could stay in it...together.  
And one year later here we are sitting in a candlelit restaurant celebrating our anniversary and listening to questionable jazz.  
For fucks sake Aziraphale, I don't think we could be any more of a couple if we marched down the aisle in white dresses and said I do!”

The realisation came to the angel slowly, rolling over his features like a shadow across the sea. Target hit, thought Crowley. Surrender was immanent.

“Oh bother.” sighed Aziraphale quietly. “I think I'm beginning to see what you mean.” He spread his hands delicately on the table in front of him and stared at them forlornly.  
“But just because there are certain similarities, that doesn't mean it's true. I mean It’s such a human thing isn't it?...I don’t know if it's right… measuring this by their standards.”

Crowley shrugged. “Oh, I think we're both a bit more human than we thought angel. Why else would we drink so much overpriced plonk and watch so much daytime telly?”

“Perhaps you're right my dear.” Said Aziraphale, softly, and he smiled. Of course, Crowley had seen him smile a thousand times before. He smiled whenever he discovered a rare book, or a child waved at him in the street, or he bit into a pear. Just half an hour ago he'd smiled at the waiter who'd bought dessert.  
But this smile was different.  
It was so kind, so knowing ...so overflowing with love that it seemed to radiate from him. Lighting up his face far more brightly than the dying stub of candle on the table should allow.  
It was Beautiful.  
No, it was _flipping angelic._

The darker, nastier parts of Crowley’s brain squirmed in outrage, and he began to wonder if he might explode. It couldn’t be healthy, basking the presence of something so holy. But to his surprise his atoms remained resolutely attached to one another. And that was good, because he really _really_ didn't want look away.  
“Maybe a change of definition wouldn't hurt.’ Said Aziraphale his eyes bright and shining. “I suppose, since we’re going native it would be more appropriate to start using the lingua franca.”  
Crowley felt a gentle brush of fingers against his.  
“Just for the sake of appearances you understand.”  
Crowley took the angels hand and held it still, their fingers lacing together. Intertwined. Just like they had been since the first days of Eden.  
“Of course angel. Whatever you want.” Although intellectually, Crowley was sure he'd won that particular argument, as he sat there, the angels hand soft and warm in his, surrounded with more love than he'd felt in several lifetimes, he couldn't escape the feeling that he was the one to surrender.

“Shall we go for a walk in St James?” asked Aziraphale after a long moment. “Since that's what old couples do?”

“Yeah alright. But I'm not feeding the ducks again.”

“You can pretend you didn't enjoy it Crowley but I know you did.”

“Only because you keep giving them bread. Bread is bad for them. I was trying to prove a point.”

Ten minutes later, they stepped arm in arm, out into the crisp autumn air.  
If this was surrender thought Crowley, he never wanted to win anything again.

**Author's Note:**

> I always rather liked the idea that , rather than dramatically confessing their love for one another post notpocalypse , (Not that I don’t love that trope. Because I absolutely do) they would just sort of gradually drift closer together, until their feelings become so obvious that even they have to admit they've become something more than friends.  
Also for once Aziraphale realises this before Crowley, but the only way he can get him to acknowledge it is by starting an argument about it.


End file.
